


Of human magic and New Year's traditions

by strikedawn



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Human!Sorey, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, Spirit!Mikleo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikedawn/pseuds/strikedawn
Summary: Only once a year, on the last night, does the door of the spirit world open into the human world, spirits being allowed to cross it and join the humans before the New Year starts. And it's only then when Sorey and Mikleo are able to meet, spending those few hours they get together, in every way they can.This year, Sorey has some human traditions he wants to try with Mikleo.And it's not like Mikleo has ever been able to refuse him, anyway.





	Of human magic and New Year's traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, sormik fandom! Thank you for being a very important part of my 2017, and I hope I get to share my writing with all of you in 2018 as well! Please, enjoy this first fic of 2018 in which I defile my own country's New Year traditions.
> 
> Happy reading! <3

They said that time flows different for humans and spirits.

Mikleo used to believe that. As a young spirit, he was always surprised at the changes the human world showed from one of his visits to the next. People he had seen dance wildly and drink were suddenly bound to wooden walking sticks. Houses that he had seen the first stones be placed upon steady soil were now worn out with old age, threatening to crumble down with the next gust of wind. Mikleo himself changed slowly, but the humans and their lives… They were in and out of Mikleo’s life so fast that, for a long while, Mikleo had refused to be near them. Their fleeting lives only made Mikleo more aware of his own longevity.

But, of course, Sorey had been the one to change that.

Sorey had been a turning point in Mikleo’s long life. A child when they had first met, Sorey had one night clung to Mikleo’s long robe and never let go, smiling brightly at him in every New Year’s eve’s sundown, and dedicating him a sad pout with the sunrise of every New Year’s day. And since that first night Mikleo’s time had flown differently, falling into step with the humans’, and helping him be there every New Years to meet Sorey out in the human world.

Mikleo had wondered for a long time why he had come back every year after that. Curiosity had been his alibi for the first few years, curiosity over the boy that, somehow, managed to see through the human disguise of spirits and see them exactly as they were without any fear in his tiny body.

Then years passed, and that pretext sounded empty even to Mikleo himself.

“…Ready for New Year’s, Mikleo-san?”

Mikleo jumped at the sound of the familiar voice. Sounds travelled differently in the spirit world — or rather, they did so in the human world, where everything was flat and words weren’t coated with the feelings in the atmosphere. So here, surrounded by everything magical and alive, Mikleo heard Lailah’s amusement and slight teasing in the rustling of leaves by his left before her words registered in Mikleo’s brain.

“Is it New Years already?” Mikleo asked, not meeting Lailah’s beautiful eyes. She was all fire, embers glowing steadily along her arms and neck, going below the fabric of her dress and to where Mikleo couldn’t see, but her eyes were bluer than any sea in any world, and twice as calming. Despite the teasing nature of their owner, that is. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh… So the fact that you are nervously pacing alongside the door to the human world on the only night it will be open for us is just… A coincidence?”

Mikleo hid his face behind his long mane of hair, puffing softly. It always seemed like other spirits were better at reading his own emotions than he was. Lailah liked to point out that Mikleo stepped into the human world a moment earlier each year, as if he couldn’t wait any more to be back in it. And maybe it was true — _maybe_ Mikleo hid from the other spirits until the door was open and he could pretend he hadn’t been waiting at all.

Somehow, they always seemed to be able to find him for one last gibe, though.

“Maybe,” Mikleo replied, not meeting Lailah’s eyes.

“I’m not trying to be mean, Mikleo-san,” Lailah promised with a gentle smile. “I think it’s endearing, how much you care about that boy.”

_‘But he’s a boy no more,’_ a voice whispered inside Mikleo, making him hum. Sorey had already shown the features and characteristics of a young man the last year, his usually lanky arms showing the outlines of well defined muscle, and a thin shadow of facial hair making his jaw look sharper than it was. Of course, the softness of childhood that had still clung to him wasn’t lost on Mikleo, but there was no denying that Sorey was changing. Maturing.

And growing up. So much so that he might even reach Mikleo’s height, someday.

“How old is he now, anyway?” Lailah suddenly asked, her question so in tune with Mikleo’s thoughts that it made Mikleo jump slightly.

“…Eighteen this year,” The leaves by Mikleo’s right shoulder shivered, their movement carrying some of the strange sadness Mikleo was suddenly feeling.

Lailah smiled again, softer this time, and moved over the grass until she was standing by Mikleo’s side. The smell of burnt grass and embers enveloped him, so familiar and so Lailah that it soothed him, somewhat. Spirits didn’t touch much — if any —, but there was no need for that when their simple scent was enough to calm each other.

“He will still meet you every New Years, Mikleo-san,” Lailah whispered, and the blades of dying grass, a byproduct of Lailah’s fire magic, swayed by their feet in agreement. “No matter how much he grows up — I don’t think he will ever stop looking at you that way.”

Mikleo frowned. “Wait, in what way?”

Lailah didn’t seem surprised at Mikleo’s confusion. She simply smiled, hiding it behind her palm delicately. But instead of replying she turned around to face the spirit door, clasping her hands before her gauzy dress. “Happy New Year, Mikleo-san.”

Just as Lailah’s words formed in the air, sunlight poured though the leaves that hid the door to the human world.

It wasn’t a door, exactly, but a passage. Mikleo didn’t think too much of it, but Sorey had expressed his wonder many times, in the years that he accompanied Mikleo back to the entrance. He always regarded the curling arcs of leaves and fruits with shiny eyes, reaching out his hand as if he wanted to run his fingers over their bright green. He would never be able to, though. The door was only there for Sorey to see, not to cross. Humans were not allowed into the spirit world.

But the moment sunlight filtered through the small spaces between the leaves, when it shone brighter and brighter until even Mikleo had to narrow his eyes at it, Mikleo thought that, maybe, it did had something special.

It was the only thing that allowed him to keep meeting Sorey each year, after all.

As Mikleo breathed in the rich, clean air of the spirit world for the last time that night, the door to the other world opened.

And Mikleo stepped into the human world just as the last ray of sunlight hid beyond the horizon.

He was sure he heard Lailah’s giggle follow him, fluttering softly by his cheek before disappearing into the mundane twilight sky. She wouldn’t be joining him in this particular place of the human world, Mikleo knew. She would use the same door to travel elsewhere, maybe a place with a livelier party, with brighter lights. But Mikleo couldn’t think of a better place to spend this single night in.

Not when he was received with that smile that rivaled the light of the spirit sun.

“Mikleo!”

As the door to the spirit world closed behind him once again, Mikleo let himself be enveloped in a pair of strong, eager arms. Mikleo soon returned the hug, too familiar with the tradition by now to step away from it, and Sorey laughed as they hugged, warm and close to his cheek — too close, actually.

“You grew again,” Mikleo couldn’t help but comment, his hands pushing at Sorey’s shoulders when his mild annoyance outgrew the warmth he felt brewing at the bottom of his chest.

Sorey let Mikleo push him away, but his hands stayed on Mikleo’s tunic, clinging to him the way he did when he was a child. He had grown, Mikleo realized. His body was bigger and stronger, his jaw so defined that it didn’t need of facial hair to show its sharpness. Soft lines appeared around his mouth and eyes when his smile grew, a remembrance of the child Mikleo had once met but that wasn’t there, anymore.

“Well, you haven’t seen me in a whole year!” Sorey said with laughter in his voice. Maybe sound didn’t travel the same way it did back in the spirit world, but Mikleo still felt it wrap around himself the same way Sorey’s arms had just a second ago. “Of course I’ve grown up!”

Mikleo frowned. He wasn’t entirely joking when he said: “I don’t like it.”

A soft sound escaped from Sorey’s mouth. There was barely any light by now —they were too far away from the village for the bonfire’s light to illuminate their path, and the sky was quickly darkening with each passing minute — but Mikleo didn’t have a problem to see the cheeky curl of Sorey’s mouth. “I do, actually!” Sorey said, and his fingers tightened a bit more on Mikleo’s tunic. “Because now I get to do this…”

And, barely pushing himself onto his tiptoes, Sorey leant forward and kissed Mikleo on the cheek.

Something Mikleo would never admit out loud — something Mikleo wouldn’t even admit to Sorey — was how much this human had shown him about magic in the handful of years they had known each other. Sorey had taught Mikleo about the magic hidden in a smile, the magic that coated every word of a farewell. He had taught him about the different ways mundane magic worked, and how each spouted a feeling in Mikleo that he had never felt before. Like the candid magic in every one of Sorey’s touches.

Or the fire magic that made Mikleo’s skin tingle after that kiss on his cheek.

“…stop growing already, or I’ll turn you into a tree,” Mikleo muttered, using an old threat from their past.

But the threat went over Sorey’s head. He beamed instead, leaning back but not far from Mikleo. “You’re blushing!”

“N-no, I’m not,” Mikleo sidestepped, and started the slow ascent towards Sorey’s village without turning to see if he followed. The wind carried downhill the soft sounds of music and laughter already. Mikleo didn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed them before. “You know spirits don’t blush.”

Sorey caught up to him easily, muscular legs carrying him up the hill to fall into step by Mikleo’s side. “Then maybe you’re not a spirit after all, Mikleo-sama.”

Mikleo blinked. Without stopping his walk, he turned his head to look at Sorey, curiosity getting the best of him. “If I’m not a spirit, then what am I?”

Sorey didn’t reply right away. A beat passed, the back of his hand brushing against Mikleo’s as they walked, and Mikleo was witness to another instance of human magic: the way a blush spread under tanned skin, green eyes looking up from under sun-kissed lashes.

“A New Year’s resolution, maybe,” Sorey said, and Mikleo only remained even more curious.

Their arrival at the top of the hill gave Sorey an excuse to not explain himself. Sorey’s village had changed during the last year, but not enough for Mikleo to feel strange in this human place. The music was louder here, a lively band on a wooden stage making a handful of humans move at the sound of their instruments. Colorful garlands of flowers and paper ran from side to side of the square, tied around wooden posts and stacks of hay. The bonfire, which was supposed to be a guiding light for any spirit that might want to join the humans in this merry night, burned already at the center of the square, bright and strong enough for Mikleo to feel its warmth. Despite the familiar tingle of his skin, the butterflies in Mikleo’s hair shook dedicatedly, expressing their discomfort at the sight of the fire.

“Let’s head over to the food stalls,” Sorey whispered by his side, and when Mikleo looked away from the fire he found Sorey looking up, to the horns like branches that sprouted form Mikleo’s head and served as a resting place for his butterflies. He too, had felt their discomfort. “I’ll treat you to something nice this year!”

Mikleo shook his head, letting Sorey’s hand guide him to the side, away from the bonfire and the music even as he tried to refuse: “You don’t have to—“

“Come on, allow me!”

They descended the other side of the hill together, walking slowly towards the stalls that lined the further end of the square, far away enough from the fire that some of the food and goods wouldn’t be damaged. Mikleo watched, amused, as people stopped Sorey for a word and a laugh, passing arms over his shoulders or, those who didn’t reach, palming his arm affectionally. Sorey was tall, in human standards: only two or three men reached to ruffle his hair.

After a fourth group had come and go, only speaking to Sorey and ignoring Mikleo completely, Sorey turned towards him with a sad pout in his mouth. “You’re not using your human disguise this year?”

Mikleo shook his head. Spirits were only allowed into the human world for a night, but that didn’t mean humans could see them easily. New Year’s was a day to invite spirits in, not to make bonds with them.

But, if the spirit was feeling up to it, they could hide behind a human disguise and walk among other humans without being noticed for what they really were. Cloaked in magic, almost like wearing a mask, spirits were able to live for that one night in that world that wasn’t their own, being smiled at, and touched, and welcomed. Mikleo had done it, sometimes, charmed as always by the quick acceptance of this village and their warmth.

However, Mikleo had decided not to do it tonight. Sorey’s strange ability had never allowed him to see Mikleo’s human disguise anyway, letting him see Mikleo only as the spirit he was, so it wasn’t as if Mikleo needed it for Sorey to see him.

But the rest of the humans—

“Since I come here every year, people might start guessing why my human self only appears every New Year’s,” Mikleo explained, walking easily by Sorey’s side despite the growing number of people around them. The music was louder here, so Mikleo leant closer so he could speak easier to him. “…You don’t look too happy about it, though,” Mikleo added when he noticed Sorey’s frown.

“Well, I don’t like the idea of others thinking I’m talking to myself… you _are_ here, after all! But it’s okay,” Sorey went on after shaking his head. “I’m just happy I get to spend tonight with you, Mikleo!”

Mikleo smiled at Sorey’s words. His butterflies, unbeknownst to him, fluttered happily over his horns. “I’m happy too, Sorey.”

A strange sense of pride surged through Mikleo when Sorey’s own smile became brighter at his words. He decided not to dwell too much on it.

He was used to feeling strange things during his New Year’s nights.

“Ah, look, Mikleo! Aren’t they pretty?”

Wrapping his fingers around Mikleo’s wrist, Sorey pulled him along to a small stand, with ribbons hanging from hooks and some more neatly displayed over a table top. There were accessories and cheap jewelry scattered around too, but Sorey’s eyes were only on the ribbons.

“They are,” Mikleo agreed and leaned forward, observing the bright colors of the ribbons. When he moved his hand over them, careful so as not to make anything move, he discovered they were softer to the touch than they looked. “Are you thinking of getting one for yourself?”

Sorey laughed, but something in it made Mikleo think he was slightly nervous. Why? “Not for me, silly! For you!”

Mikleo’s hand stilled over the ribbons, Mikleo turning his head to narrow his eyes at Sorey. “I told you you don’t have to—“

“But they’re a tradition!” Sorey explained, picking up one of the ribbons and twisting it carefully around his knuckles. “People with long hair wear ribbons in it to say hello to the new year. And it’s not like you can buy it yourself because you decided not to be visible this year—“

“Sorey!” A new voice suddenly shouted, and both Sorey and Mikleo turned to see the shopkeeper arrive behind the table, slightly flushed and breath smelling pleasantly of warm wine. “Thinking of getting one, boy?”

“I…” Sorey blushed under Mikleo’s surprised eyes. Was buying a ribbon something to blush over? Maybe Mikleo should have insisted further on Sorey not getting it for him… “Yes, please,” Sorey continued, and let the ribbon over his knuckles slide away so the shopkeeper could see it. “This one, please.”

“Oh, ho, ho, you really are growing up!” The man said, smiling joyfully and a bit teasingly as Sorey handed him a couple of silver coins. “Good luck with it, boy!”

“Yeah, yeah… thanks!”

Before Mikleo could ask, Sorey’s hand was back on Mikleo’s wrist and pulling him away once again, Sorey’s blush making itself deeper as the shopkeeper laughed good-naturedly behind them. Mikleo looked over his shoulder at him and then back at Sorey, who still had the ribbon he had chosen in his palm.

“Why is he laughing?” Mikleo asked as Sorey guided him behind a hay stack, giving them the illusion of being alone except for the sounds of the party behind them. “And why did he wish you good luck?”

Sorey fiddled with the ribbon, not meeting Mikleo’s eyes. “I dunno…”

Mikleo frowned. “Didn’t you say it was a tradition? Surely you know by now how it works…?”

“Yes! I mean, no…. I mean— Forget it! Here.”

Sorey was suddenly so close that everything else faded away in favor of his warmth. Mikleo startled softly, barely a brush of his robes but still enough to disturb the butterflies in his horns, when Sorey reached out. But his fingers simply found their way into Mikleo’s hair, carefully splitting a lock from the mane and —with fingers so soft that Mikleo barely felt it pulling at his hair, and an expertise that surprised even Mikleo— Sorey braided the ribbon perfectly into the lock, letting it hang over Mikleo’s shoulder while the rest of his hair fell over his back. With a slow movement, Mikleo raised his fingers to touch the ribbon in his hair, once again marveling at its softness.

It felt heavy with meaning, despite it being as light as the rest of his hair.

“There,” Sorey suddenly said, a little bit breathless. He hadn’t stepped away, so his sigh brushed against Mikleo’s cheeks with all the delicacy of a butterfly’s wing. His fingers moved to join Mikleo’s over the ribbon, softly brushing Mikleo’s hair with the tips of his fingers. “See? It matches your eyes.”

Mikleo looked as Sorey as Sorey kept his eyes on the lock of hair for a moment longer. He truly had grown. Sorey had grown so much that he could look at him in the eyes, no need to look down anymore.

For the first time that night, Mikleo thought that maybe it wasn’t that bad.

By the way warmth filled his heart, it wasn’t bad at all.

 

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the night going around the village, Sorey showing him the places that had changed over the year in between trips to the food stalls and dancing in front of the band at the wooden stage. Mikleo didn’t join him on those, but it was a joy to see Sorey have fun with the other humans. His friends quickly pulled him along for him to dance at least one more song with them, receiving him with open arms and joyful smiles.

Sorey always came back from those moments slightly flushed and with an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, Mikleo! I hope you’re not too bored.”

Mikleo smiled at him, softly shaking his head. “Of course not. I want you to have fun.”

“But I only get one night with you! I want to make sure you have fun too.”

And that was it. Sorey’s fingers — for the nth time that night — found their place against Mikleo’s skin again, lightly holding onto him as they walked away, up the hill once again, leaving the village behind. It was only then that Mikleo noticed the brown paper bag in Sorey’s other hand, slightly crumpled from how tightly Sorey was holding its top.

“What is that?” Mikleo asked with curiosity. He hadn’t realized Sorey had bought anything else beside the ribbon at some point.

Strangely enough, the question made Sorey blush slightly. Mikleo didn’t understand why Sorey got to tease him about blushing —which he did not do—, when it was Sorey who blushed the most.

“You know how I told you I got to travel with Gramps this year?” Sorey asked instead of replying, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

Mikleo nodded. Sorey had told him about his adventures with his grandfather during the summer. He had spoken about discovering new places, new cultures, and a fire that Mikleo had never seen had ignited in Sorey’s eyes. A new kind of magic, indeed.

“Well, one of the places I visited had this tradition for New Year’s… I was thinking we could do it too, since we’re close to midnight.”

Pulling from his wrist, Sorey guided Mikleo to sit at the top of the hill, overlooking the village. They were too far away to be seen now, or for the light of the bonfire to find them, but still the moon and the stars were bright enough for Sorey and Mikleo to see each other perfectly. Mikleo observed Sorey curiously as he put the paper bag between them, the paper creaking as Sorey put his hand in it and pulled out—

“Grapes?”

“Yeah!” Sorey nodded, presenting Mikleo with a bunch of perfect-looking green grapes. “What they do is eat one grape with each chime of the bell at midnight, on the night of New Year’s eve. So I thought we could—“

“But— But that sounds dangerous!” Mikleo exclaimed, looking at the grapes with big, surprised eyes. “How… how can they do that without choking!?”

Sorey laughed at that, leaning closer to Mikleo. “I said the same thing! It does sound a bit scary… So I thought we could come up with our own way of doing it! Make the tradition our own…?”

Sorey’s voice died down towards the end as he looked at Mikleo from the corner of his eye. Mikleo regarded him curiously for a long moment too, but he soon shrugged, his tunic rustling with the movement. “That sounds fine by me. What did you have in mind?”

Once again, Sorey blushed softly. Mikleo made a mental note to ask Lailah if humans tended to blush more as they grew older. “Here, Mikleo, I’ll… I’ll show you.”

There was five minutes left to midnight still, but Sorey still plucked a single grape from the bunch and held it between his thumb, index and middle fingers. The thin peel of the grape shone wet in the pale light of the night, almost as fresh looking as a fruit from the spirit world. Mikleo tilted his head to the side slightly when Sorey moved his hand to the space between their bodies, waiting.

And then, when Mikleo started to think that was it, Sorey moved his hand closer to brush the grape against Mikleo’s slightly parted lips.

The smell of the fresh fruit and the warmth coming from Sorey’s fingers were enough to make Mikleo’s mouth open, the grape rolling onto his tongue and flavor bursting the moment he bit into it. He opened his eyes wide in surprise, the sweetness of the fruit making him gasp softly.

But Sorey’s fingers lingered against Mikleo’s lower lip. The contact was long enough for Mikleo to look into Sorey’s eyes through the small space that separated them, and find them fixed on Mikleo’s own mouth.

The warmth that unfurled inside Mikleo’s stomach was much more surprising than the taste of the grape.

“I…” Mikleo started to say, making Sorey’s eyes snap back to his— but before he could continue the bell at the village’s belfry started to chime, and excited cheers rose over the music that came from around the bonfire.

“…Midnight,” Sorey whispered, still not looking away from Mikleo. Mikleo didn’t tear his eyes away from Sorey either, but he was aware of Sorey plucking another grape and holding it between the same three fingers and towards Mikleo. “Do you want to…?”

Mikleo blinked slowly, looking as the light of the stars casted shadows on Sorey’s features. He looked slightly nervous and still flustered, but under those layers there was a shine to his eyes that made Mikleo feel like the whole year of waiting had been worth it. Sorey was happy underneath it all, happy to be by Mikleo’s side, to see him and share the traditions he had learnt of over the time they had spent apart. They warmed Mikleo to the core, Sorey’s openness and his friendship, and, for a moment, Mikleo wished he could make Sorey happy every day of every year.

If only he could spend with him more than this yearly night…

The ribbon tied in his hair moved as Mikleo leaned forward, wrapping his mouth around the tip of Sorey’s fingers and using his tongue to steal the grape from his grasp.

This one tasted slightly sour, the taste making the back of Mikleo’s jaw tingle. But he soon forgot about it when, as he moved back, Mikleo realized Sorey had gone tense all over, his fingers still hanging midair and open, as if they thought he was still holding the grape. There was no other emotion that wasn’t surprise in Sorey’s face, and that made Mikleo moved back slightly, his butterflies moving restlessly on his horns.

“Was… was that inappropriate?” Mikleo asked, suddenly feeling cold at the tips of his fingers. It hadn’t been his intention to make Sorey feel—

“N-no, no!” Sorey suddenly exclaimed, shaking his head. His hair ruffled with the movement, and then it got even messier when Sorey lifted his other hand to rub the back of his neck. Mikleo swatted down the need to run his fingers through Sorey’s hair and put everything back into place. “You just… surprised me…”

Sorey propped one of the grapes quickly into his own mouth, as if to stop himself from speaking any more. The chiming of the bells was still going off in the background of their conversation. Mikleo hadn’t been keeping track of the number of chimes, but he knew it couldn’t be long before their song was over.

“…Mikleo,” Sorey called, leaning closer.

Mikleo, who had turned to look at the cheering villagers down the hill, turned to look at Sorey with a curious look in his eyes. “Yes, So— _?!_ ”

The brush of Sorey’s lips against his was enough to make Mikleo shiver. It was a feeling he had never felt before — Sorey’s sheer proximity, the way his lips pressed comfortably against his own, the _pressure…_ All of it was enough to make Mikleo gasp, his lips falling open to fit into the spaces of Sorey’s own parted mouth. It was hot and humid, making Mikleo’s head spin — and then sweetness exploded in his mouth as Sorey pushed the grape inside Mikleo’s mouth with his tongue, slow enough for Mikleo to accept the offering, for pressure to build on Mikleo’s chest when Sorey’s tongue moved against his, stealing the flavor of the fruit and replacing it with wet warmth.

Something acute and painful crossed Mikleo’s chest, making him make a soft sound against Sorey’s mouth.

_‘My heart skipped a beat,_ ’ Mikleo thought, knowing only what it was from the many times Sorey had described the sensation in the past. _‘It’s… never done that before.’_

When the grape was securely inside Mikleo’s mouth, Sorey leaned back. His lips were shiny as he kept his eyes casted away, that sly tongue slipping out to lick them before Sorey caught himself and stopped the movement halfway, his blush deepening.

Mikleo observed him as he bit down onto the grape, feeling his own skin unusually hot. “Was that… part of the tradition?”

Sorey’s shoulders tensed once again. But, aside from that, he didn’t move, not even to look at Mikleo when he said: “…Maybe it is. Somewhere.”

There was a heavy feeling in the air, one that Mikleo didn’t know how to interpret. It felt as if something important was about to happen—or had already happened maybe—, not very unlike that small moment before sunlight filtered into the spirit world and the doors to the human one opened. And it was on Mikleo to proceed accordingly, to cross the door or to stay in his world.

Just— Mikleo had absolutely no idea what to do.

‘ _He wants to share his traditions with you,’_ something inside Mikleo reminded him, soft and sweet as he thought of Sorey. _‘It’s all he has asked of you tonight.’_

Mikleo nodded to himself. Then, with lithe fingers and a slow movement, he reached forward to press the fingertips of his index and middle fingers under Sorey’s chin, guiding him to look back towards him. Sorey let him, surprised at the touch but not put off by it.

And, when Mikleo made the space between them disappear by pressing his own lips to Sorey’s, and Sorey let the softest sound die against Mikleo’s mouth, Mikleo knew he had done the right thing.

‘ _Ah,’_ he suddenly thought, moving his hand so it rested flush against the column of Sorey’s neck. _‘But I forgot the grape…’_

The thought left Mikleo a bit sad. But when Sorey moved—when he pressed back with his own mouth, and his lips parted slightly to slide over Mikleo’s bottom lip… Mikleo simply forgot about grapes and anything to do with them, only the faint taste of them on Sorey’s mouth remaining at the forefront of Mikleo’s mouth. It was as if suddenly his mouth had found its purpose; like moving it like this, to mold and press against Sorey’s mouth, was exactly what it had been created to do.

Mikleo felt breathless for a second, just as his heart skipped another beat, pain springing up from the core of his chest.

Human magic was certainly a wonder.

When they moved apart —when Sorey leaned back for air and Mikleo’s hand twitched against the skin of his neck —, Mikleo finally noticed the silence around them, still and quiet.

The chimes of the midnight bell had finally stopped.

“…Happy New Year, Sorey,” Mikleo whispered, staying still.

It was Sorey who moved, leaning forward until his forehead pressed against Mikleo’s and a blinding smile uncurled on his lips. “Happy New Year, Mikleo.”

“You humans and your traditions…” Mikleo continued after a comfortable silence, leaning back and away to smile teasingly at Sorey. “How do those people even manage to eat a grape with every chime? We barely even managed three.”

Sorey’s laughter came from the very center of his chest, making him throw his head back. “I don’t know, to be honest!” He said, laughter still clinging to his voice. “Maybe next time we could try an easier tradition? Like the one of wearing red underwear through the night of New Year’s Eve!”

“Mm,” Mikleo’s fingers rose to play with the ribbon in his hair as he thought about it, feeling the silk like material beneath his fingertips. “I don’t think that one would be suited for me.”

“Oh, why?” Sorey blinked. “You don’t own red underwear?”

“It’s not that,” Mikleo replied with a nonchalant shrug. “We spirits just don’t wear underwear.”

Sorey choked. He choked on his own saliva, rough coughs racking his body as he curled over himself. Mikleo’s eyebrows rose in surprise, his hand quickly moving forward to pat him on the back in a weak attempt to help.

‘ _Silly Sorey,’_ Mikleo thought with a sigh. _‘How did you expect to eat all twelve grapes when you choke on nothing?’_

The music from the village rose one more time, welcoming the new year. And Mikleo did the same, thinking of sweet traditions… and the exciting taste of a familiar fruit in someone else’s mouth.

When his skin grew hot, Mikleo didn’t have the will to pretend he wasn’t blushing anymore.


End file.
